


Make Me Feel

by sarahphym



Category: Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, G rated mentions of war, I'll just leave this here, Oral Sex, PWP, Vaginal Sex, finally dusted it off, i was thirst AF ok?, i wrote this opening weekend last year, literature this is not, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:57:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14324067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahphym/pseuds/sarahphym
Summary: My writing notes say it all:Ok so, all Steve knows going into this night is that he is going to absolutely and totally commit himself to going down on her. Like, “inferiority complex about those twelve books on female pleasure that decried men as unnecessary” levels of sincere dedication to eating her out.Just my take on what happened during their one night in Veld.





	Make Me Feel

**Author's Note:**

> this is pretty rough but i wrote it last year, edited last night. realized it's doing no one any good just sitting in my docs. hope you enjoy!

The thing is, Steve knows they’re probably gonna die on this mission. He’s known that from the beginning. Even after today’s crossing of _No Man’s Land_ and the freeing of Veld, his mind won’t let him forget all the things they still have left to accomplish. Tomorrow’s plan is half-formed in his mind, but there are only so many steps he can work out before the future gets so blurred that there’s no point in wasting energy wondering about the details. He focuses instead on what’s most clear to him—he’s still has to find a German officer’s uniform, he’s got to arrange a way for them to get to the German High Command outpost tomorrow, and then he has to find a discreet way in. All this, and without the help of their friends who have fulfilled their side of the bargain. And there are only so many hours left of the night. 

But he can’t shake the feeling that he’s had ever since he met Diana, a weight of something like expectation, an almost out-of-body feeling. Like he’s simultaneously looking down on himself making all these decisions about where to go and what to do, and yet weighted in every detail. He’s never felt so present in his own body his entire life. Every aspect of the battle today had felt more real than any of the others he’s lived through. Every color was more vivid, every bodily sensation heightened ever since the day Diana plucked him from the sea. 

He knows that Diana is… something else, something other. He’s seen her world—he’s seen what she’s capable of. He still doesn’t quite understand who or what her people, the Amazons, are. He’s seen Diana do things that would kill any man, and seen her walk out of the rubble without a scratch on her _perfect_ skin. He still doesn’t understand _what_ she is, or what else she can do. And he’s realized today that he doesn’t have to know, not really. She’s rocked his world enough already, changed the foundations of everything he thought he knew. He’s seen enough of the world to get a glimpse of the incredible variation of humanity, the raw possibility out there. He knows enough to know that he doesn’t know anything, really. 

The villagers had fêted them that night with every luxury they could afford, which wasn’t much, but the love and gratitude it represented was staggering. The old innkeeper had made a room ready for Diana and two for Steve and the boys to share. The old man had held Diana’s hands between his and cried. Her sweet smile and gentle touch to his shoulder made Steve ache with love for her. Who was this woman? How could someone like her exist in this world with its own share of horrors?

That touch, her gentle goodness, is what Steve’s thinking about as he walks Diana up creaking stairs to her room at the inn. The door at the top of the stair opens to a lit fire and a narrow bed with fresh, though worn, linens. His fingers are still tingling from the cold, his toes still a little numb in his boots. He’s thinking about the endless war, and the long, weary grind of throwing himself at the unsolvable problems of the world, of somehow finding a way to keep moving. He’s thinking about the super-human things that Diana did today. All the people she’s saved. He’s thinking, maybe they can end this war, maybe anything is possible. Maybe. 

He’s also thinking about the warmth of her body, of her hand holding his as they swayed in the snow. The way she moved across the battlefield, the preternatural effort of her muscles tensing, her body leaping, crushing their enemies. He’s aware of his own fascination and (not a little) fear of her. This could be the cause of his racing heart, jittering away in his chest as she steps into the room. Or it could be the way she turns and drops her dark gaze on him, quiet, expectant. His hesitation at the door is no more than what society has bred in him. He knows he doesn’t want to close it behind him, separating them. He can’t bring himself do it. Diana watches this in him, and he’s used to her watching him by now. She’s always figuring him out, enjoying the puzzle of his humanity. Her eyes, the tilt of her head, pull him a step further into the room. He closes the door behind him. 

//

Diana has always been curious about the differences between them. After long minutes spent kissing and easing into the rhythm of each other, she pulls off his jacket and sweater to get at the shirt underneath. Steve lets his hands settle at her waist underneath her cloak as she methodically unhooks the buttons, trying to calm the racing of his heart. He shrugs it off at her urging, shivering a little in the cool air. Diana’s hot hands are quick to return to his belly, his back. 

They kiss and kiss. Diana clearly knows how, setting the pace and surprising Steve with her confidence. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He runs his hands along the cold metal of her bracers, traces his fingers up her hot skin underneath the fur of the cloak draped over her shoulders. He meets her eyes again and she nods, letting him unclasp the heavy garment from her armor. She dips her head as he lifts it over her, stepping briefly to the side to drape it on the only chair in the room. 

Heart thrumming in his chest, Steve returns to the space right in front of the woman he still can’t quite believe exists. Diana is practically already naked with her _legs_ just _bare all the damn time_ , and suddenly he realizes now he's _allowed to look_. 

She smiles at him knowingly, and he quirks up the corner of his mouth at being caught staring. She glances down pointedly at his trousers. Steve nearly blushes, but gets with the program, unbuckles his belt, then the buttons, lets everything crumple to the floor. He toes off his boots, and then pulls off his woolen socks when he notices the plush, worn carpet at their feet. He meets Diana’s eyes again, and she smiles at him, lifting a hand to tug him back to her. 

“Just, ah- “ he steps to the side. “Just a sec…” He turns to the wash stand he'd noticed as he was undressing. Diana looks at him quizzically, but bends down to begin unlacing her own boots. The water from the pitcher is ice cold, and Steve washes his hands and face with quick, efficient movements. He dries and rubs his hands on the towel as best as possible, and when he turns back to Diana she’s already unclasping her breastplate armor, arms bare of her bracers. He’s pretty sure the rest of the world ceases its motion as she lowers the heavy red plated armor down her body, revealing even more of her golden, glowing flesh. 

It turns out she does wear something underneath all the heavy armor, but it’s no more than a slip of fabric stretched across her breasts. He watches the muscles of her arms bunch and release as she works the clasp of her skirt, and then suddenly it's falling too. Her chest rises and falls, and her dark eyes lift back to his. She lifts the last garment from her chest, hair tumbling back down her back as she lifts the fabric over her head. Steve’s breath comes heavy in his throat. He fumbles with his own underwear, the last scrap of fabric separating them, and steps back to her. 

Diana reaches for him, drawing him in to press close and tight against her warm body. The heat coming off of her is incredible. She kisses him again, his mouth opening eagerly for her, the evening stubble of his cheeks rough on her own face. She smiles to herself at the newness of the sensation, and pulls him to the bed. 

//

The evening is one of much exploration on Diana’s part, learning all the subtle differences between their bodies, what makes Steve shiver, moan, laugh. She runs her hands all over his chest, his sides, makes him turn and touches the nape of his neck all the way down to his feet. He laughs at her light touch on the soles of his feet, has to explain that he's ticklish there. 

“Don’t you get ticklish too? Or are you that superior to mankind?”

Diana laughs, “Of course I am ticklish. But I will never tell you where.” She squeals when he finally finds it. 

//

“Does this feel good?” She asks once she has him on his back again, her hand running up his thigh to the furred hair at his groin. His eyes squeeze shut in anticipation, and he lets out a small gasp. ”Oh… yes then?” She smirks, she actually smirks at him, reaching up further to skim her fingers over his erection. 

Up until now, if her hand strayed too close to touching him between his legs, he shied away, fearful of coming at the first stroke of her warm fingers. But now his flinch has the unintended effect of Diana pulling away in worry, “Am I hurting you? It looks very red and inflamed, is that normal?” 

Steve is shaking his head, nearly hysterical but reining in his laughter. He finally stammers, “ _No_ \- no, I mean I _do_ want you to touch me, very much, ah, just give me a few. Ah, moments. Please.” 

“Are all men this quick to arousal? Is this typical in the act of intercourse–” he wants to kiss her again to stop the words coming out of her mouth, but he just buries his face in the pillow and groans until she’s exhausted her questions, tries not to take any of it personally. It actually helps him calm down a little. 

“No, I just.” He props himself up on one elbow, takes her hand in his. “I’m very glad to be here with you right now. It’s just, well it’s been a long... time. And. With the war I haven’t had much opportunity to. Well. It’s just been a while.” His face is probably redder than his cock now.

Diana takes his face in her hands and strokes his cheek. “I will not do anything you do not want me to, Steve.” Her earnestness and that husky voice of hers lead him back to her mouth, kissing her, wanting to fall face first into her again out of sexual frustration. They get their hands back on each other, getting as close as they can, working themselves up all over again. 

Steve manages a thrust up against the vee of her hip once, twice, his foreskin catching on the crest of her hipbone before he pulls away again with a gasp. He’s on a serious mission here, he’s got to get his head back. He wants to make the most out of this evening, and refuses to think about the reasons why he feels like he has to give her his all tonight. So he sets his task to getting her to come with this mouth and his fingers, and fucking rises to the occasion. 

He sits up further, manages to not just collapse on top of Diana at the sight of her hard nipples, the droop of her breasts. “Diana, please, can I taste you?” He glances down between her legs pointedly, stroking her side and letting his thumb graze the underside of one breast.

“Ah, men do this too?” She lets him guide her to her back, settles herself against the pillow. “I very much enjoy this. You may.” He takes a shuddering breath and rejoices internally, brain catching on the idea of Diana doing this before and _with whom exactly that could have been_. He runs his hands up the soft skin of her thighs, fine hairs soft against his palms. She spreads her legs for him, and he settles between them, arms bracketing her hips. He takes a moment to just look at her, gloriously flushed and beautiful. 

“Oh, Diana.” He kisses her knee, then slowly up, open wet-mouthed kisses up to the joint of her hip. She smells like nothing he’s ever smelled before. There is sweat on her skin, but the scent is not something that’s floral or acrid or like anything else. She makes all of his senses buzz. Her scent gets inside him, and then when he finally gets his mouth on the flushed, ripe center of her, her taste as well. She fills his mind and body. 

At first he kisses all around her sex, staying away from her hot, sensitive folds. He licks the sensitive skin at the crease of her thigh. She lets out a heavy breath at the heat from his mouth ghosting over her. “Do not tease me Steve, I–” 

He puts his mouth right where she wants it, open and hot on her, lets it rest there for a moment, and then pulls his tongue flat and heavy all the way up her slit. Diana lets out a closed off moan from the back of her throat. He brings a hand up to part her dark curls, and sets to pleasing her with his tongue, doing everything that's ever brought him success in the past. He alternates the pressure of his tongue, light strokes and then dull pressure on the pulsing nub that’s getting harder and more discernible as he works his mouth. He flicks his eyes up her body, and takes in the sight: the lovely curve of her breasts, rising and falling with her breath, the soft curve of her belly and hips. The cords of her neck as she tosses her head back and squirms into his mouth, guiding him with her gentle hands where she wants him to go. He can't look at her for long without the urge to rut into the mattress, so he takes a break to close his eyes and concentrate on his task. He wants to help her come at least twice before he gets inside her, almost can't yet bear the thought of easing his way into her with his cock. 

His jaw gets sore after a few minutes, so he pulls back just enough to rest his cheek on her thigh, switching to rubbing small circles with his thumb right where his tongue used to be, getting it wet with her. He noses his way back in, lets his lips brush over her again and again. He keeps his thumb where it's already drawing even more enthusiastic noises from Diana above him. Steve presses in with his tongue, as far as he can go inside her, and Diana lets out a wail. “Steve! Yes–there!” 

He pulls back. “Diana, shhh–they'll hear you,” he whispers between her legs. He earns a squeeze of his head with her thighs for that, and a second later he feels her fingers thread into his hair, directing his mouth back her. He gives up after his token protest, knowing there's no stopping Diana when she has something to say anyway. 

He gets his tongue back inside her, and rubs his thumb fast and slick over her clit, feeling it swell underneath its soft little hood. He concentrates on keeping a rhythm, lets her guide him with her hands in his hair. She presses him harder into her until he thinks he can’t stand it any longer, but then she’s shuddering, gone completely silent, hips rolling into him. He keeps going until as she keeps riding his face, until her hips eventually slow as she finally gasps for breath. He eases off of her, tries to catch his own breath. He leans his head on her thigh again and watches her come down a little. He asks, only a little self-satisfied, “Did you like that?” 

“Mmm yes, thank you.” She wipes her brow with the back of her hand, looking down at him and smiling. “You enjoy that too, don’t you? I can tell.”

He does smirk a little at that, but kisses the crease of her thigh again to hide it. “I do. Do you want me to do it again?” He slips his thumb back to where she’s still pulsing, still slick and so warm. She shudders again, and he makes a small circle with his thumb, moves it back and forth. “Yeah?”

She nods, “Yes.”

This time he gets his fingers inside her, with her permission. He keeps his mouth on her, using his lips to rub against her, give her friction when he needs a break for his jaw. She comes twice more, the third time quickly following the second, both times keening as he works her up, but then going silent with her orgasm. She’s so worked up, he thinks he could make her keep coming and coming with little effort now, but the skin of his fingers is starting to go soft from being inside her for so long. His jaw and wrist and lungs are so worn out now that he gives no protest as she flips them over, cradling his skull so he doesn’t bang his head against the headboard. He’s still gasping for breath and she asks, voice too steady again already, “May I touch you now?” 

He can only nod his head eagerly, still too dazed by the taste of her pleasure on his tongue and her moans ringing in his ears. 

Now she very gently reaches for him, exploring his body gently with the tips of her fingers and pressing the palm of her hands into his skin. She traces his nipples with her thumb. He tries to be patient - he grits his teeth, sighs, grips his fingers into the sheets. “Please Diana, please—” He finally can’t stand it anymore and pulls her hand directly to his cock, crushing their fingers together and showing her how to stroke him. She lets him do this twice before she knocks his hands away, pressing him hard into the mattress and wringing an orgasm out of him within two brief, tortuous minutes.

As he lays there contemplating dropping into unconsciousness, possibly never to return, Diana is almost scientific in her appraisal of his penis and the evidence of his orgasm sticking, then melting off her fingers and his thighs. He nearly dies when he lifts open one eye and sees her bring the pad of her index finger to her mouth for a sniff and taste. Her considering face immediately afterward brings a roiling laugh from his belly that almost chokes him, and they smile at each other and kiss again. 

“This is what you do then? Typically, with women?” They are lying together now on the narrow mattress, half on top of each other and catching their breaths. 

“Well not, I mean yes… but not everything…” he smiles at her. They’re both still touching each other, fingers exploring skin. He strokes her hair. “Not everything no.” He looks at her again and her curious look at him, the subtle curve of her mouth. He sets about kissing her breasts, which he’s woefully neglected until now. They feel perfect in his hands, in his mouth. He touches her everywhere, all over, discovering the soft hair under her arm, the glory that is the flesh of her ass filling his hand. She lets him have his fill of her before rolling him to his back once more. 

“Tell me what you do. Tell me what you like.” Her command, voice now a little hoarse from their activity, makes his cock stir again. She feels it and squeezes his hips with her thighs. She's smiling down at him, utterly unashamed of her nakedness and her power over him. 

His face flushes, and she can feel him squirm underneath her. “I want to get inside you.” He glances down to the vee of her legs, her hot center resting on his thighs. His hand clenches in the sheet beside their hips. “Please let me fuck you.” He didn’t mean to ask like that, to blurt it out but there it is. He meets her eyes again, and she rewards him with a thorough kiss. 

She enjoys this, making him tell her what he wants, like she understands that the telling itself is its own pleasure. She knows what to do with a man, she’s heard and read things, understands the basics. But he so clearly loves the idea of her naïveté, her dedication to learning, her curious mind. So she makes him ask for it. 

And as they kiss and touch and move against each other, Steve’s organ eventually rises once more to press insistently against her belly. Diana takes him in hand, lifts up to let him press the head just at the place where she finds she very much wants him to be. Steve is looking up at her face, completely lost in her once again, brows furrowed in wonder. She surprises him with how quickly she takes him inside her, sliding down on him until he’s completely inside her, her mouth opening in a soft little gasp. He can feel her, surrounding him and hot against his groin, and his vision nearly starts to close in.

“Diana–” He gasps, grips the mattress with one hand and reaches the other to grab her wrist, her fist pushing down hard on his shoulder and pinning him to the mattress. She lifts up, and he realizes that even though she’s never been with a man she is not unfamiliar with this form of sex, not at all, not in the slightest, and he moans, too loud. She works her hips down, rolling against him, slow at first and then moving faster. She rides him hard, bending down over him to open her mouth at his neck, to bite his shoulder. Steve lets out high pitched moan, and tries his best to lift his hips to meet her rhythm. They fuck with their eyes open, gasping, drinking each other in. 

Diana finds there is something different about coupling with a man after all, the novelty of it yes, the idea of one thick column of flesh working inside her. She finds she enjoys the act of mating for pleasure, as one enjoys a good meal or a cold drink, or the sun reflecting multitudes of color in the bay of Themyscira. She is glad now, to share this with Steve, that they have come to know each other in this way. His look of wonder up at her, the sounds coming out of his mouth, all confirm he feels the same way.

Diana rides him for long minutes, letting her own pleasure rise once more. Steve is moaning on every slap of her hips back down onto him, and she reaches her fingers down to where they are joined, relishing the feeling of having him inside her. He meets her eyes again, and brings his hand to join hers between them, getting his thumb back to where he knows will make her feel good. 

After many long minutes of working their bodies together, Steve finally chokes out, “Diana I’m going to come, I need to– I shouldn’t come inside you.” She doesn’t stop. “Why not?” her eyebrows do that adorable thing where she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t have time to explain. “I can’t, I don’t–” She’s still not fucking stopping. He tries to lift her off him but he can feel her squeezing him inside her, trying to keep him in. “Do not stop!” She throws her head back, clutching his shoulder hard, pressing his fingers into her clit, and lets out a series of sharp cries. Steve shouts, feels her clenching down on him in orgasm, bucks hard up into her, and comes.

Steve’s eyes are already half closed when Diana falls to the bed next to him. Diana strokes his hair and watches him sleep for a while, kissing his forehead when he nuzzles into the press of her cheek. Eventually Diana rolls Steve to curl on his side, tucking her hips firmly into the curve of his ass. The press of his cooling skin feels good against her belly. She holds him close until she falls asleep herself, nose pressed into the hair at the nape of his neck. They wake in the dull morning glow, after only a few short hours, still curled tightly together. 

They are both loathe to part their bodies, and nuzzle into each other in the early morning light. They cannot bring themselves to give each other more than one lingering, tender kiss. Diana presses her forehead to his for a long moment, their breath syncing for a few precious heartbeats. Steve finally pulls away, his eyes sparking at her like the hot sun on the sea of Themyscira. They get dressed, pulling on their implements of war, buckling straps of armor and weapons. 

As Steve is riding out the next day, he can feel bruises all over his body, even where they don’t show on his skin.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3
> 
> PSA: use condoms. i did research on WW1 era condoms and trust me, you wouldn't have wanted me to include them. use safe sex, fic is fiction, etc. i may or may not also have a pregnancy-risk kink. sue me.
> 
> also i just wanted to leave this writing note that i left for myself here, bc it cracks me up and i couldn't quite make it fit in the ending there: 
> 
> "also i kinda wanna mention how his dick is sore riding a horse the next day but that's p r o b a b l y not necessary,,,,"


End file.
